In these happy occupations, interrupted frequently by severe attacks of gout, but always resumed as soon as returning strength permitted; with a mind which watched the progress of events with anxiety, but which drew from the faith by which it lived, a fund of cheerful and overflowing kindness which nothing could repress; he passed the years of his residence at Greenwich. The death of his brother, Captain E. Brenton, which took place after a very short illness in 1839, was a severe blow; and his own constitution weakened by repeated attacks of the same debilitating malady, led him to think that it might be necessary to try change of air, as a palliative or a cure. He went for this purpose to try the effect of the German baths; and through Ostend, Brussels, and Cologne, reached Wisbaden. The waters at first appeared to succeed admirably. His strength and spirits revived; the affectionate relatives with whom he was travelling were delighted with his progress, and flattered themselves with the hope that he was to derive some marked and enduring improvement. At this time however his youngest daughter was seized with fever, which was pronounced to be typhus; and from that moment, anxiety for her absorbed every other feeling. Through the mercy of God her life was spared, and the anxious parents were permitted to carry back to England the child over which their anxieties had been so painfully exercised. The union of intense feeling and patient resignation which his conduct on this occasion exhibited, struck even those, who had been accustomed to see him on previous occasions of trial; and left impressions which it has been their delight subsequently to recall.
He returned to England, but shortly after his return was seized with another fit of gout, more severe and more tedious than any he had previously endured. But even then, his sick-room is described as being the abode of patience and of peace; and when he was not actually suffering from severe pain, it was the scene of constant cheerfulness. The tenderness of his feelings for others overcame all sense of personal suffering, and the gratitude which he shewed for every attention however trifling, during his illness, was touching to all who had anything to do with him.
With the spring of 1840 he began to recover his strength, and the first use he made of that recovery was to resume his labours for the good of others, and to occupy himself with schemes of benevolence. It was obvious however that his strength was no longer equal to the exertions he had been accustomed to make. The position that he occupied at Greenwich had likewise lost some of its charms, for the promotion which took place on the Queen’s coronation in 1838, would have raised him to the rank of Vice-Admiral, and he had indulged the hope, that the promise which was made him on accepting the appointment, that his rank should go on without the alternative of resignation, would have been confirmed. This however was not the case, and though the circumstances of his family induced him to submit to what he regarded as a painful degradation, by retaining the office at the sacrifice of rank; it was not without a severe struggle that he resigned the hope of active employment, and submitted to the conditions imposed on his situation.
The events which have been previously mentioned acted with greater power on a mind which had been thus deprived of its chief object through life; and when in 1840, a good service pension became available by the death of Sir Sidney Smith; he determined on exchanging his situation at Greenwich for that, and on retiring from public life. His first removal was to Casterton, near Kirkby Lonsdale, where he occupied the Rectory house; and in that delightful scenery, and in the society of the excellent family at the hall, he found a retreat such as he had often imagined, but perhaps had never met with before. Once settled there, he began to enter into the objects of interest with which he was surrounded; and it was hoped that the change of air and scene might have had a decided and beneficial effect on his health. His mind certainly was cheered, and his professional feelings gratified, by a letter received at this time from the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, informing him that he had been promoted to the rank of Vice-Admiral of the Blue, and that his name was placed on the list of Flag Officers of the fleet, in the order in which it would have stood, if he had not been passed over in the promotion of the 28th June, 1838.
His residence at Casterton did not however continue beyond the first year. The climate was found too humid, and the distance from medical advice was severely felt by one, who was subject to sudden and severe attacks, and who had been accustomed to the advantages connected with Greenwich Hospital. On leaving Casterton he took a house at Elford, in Staffordshire, and while residing there, he published the memoir of his much beloved brother, Captain Edward Pelham Brenton, which has been already named. He explains in the work the motives which led him to undertake it. In the year 1840 he also published a pamphlet on the importance of the coast fishery, both as forming a nursery for seamen, and as opening to our increasing population a vast increase of the means of subsistence.
In the midst of these calm and useful occupations the love of his profession still retained its power. The change of place and prolonged repose appeared to have been beneficial to his health; with returning strength his desire for active employment revived; and his health and spirits having been renovated by a visit to Portsmouth, he wrote to the First Lord of the Admiralty, and asked for a command. This application would no doubt have been complied with, and the last object of his ambition attained, had it pleased God to spare his life; but a cold caught early in the spring of the year 1844 brought on a fit of the gout, from which he never rallied; and under this, his constitution shattered by long extended suffering, gradually gave way. In the commencement of this illness he expressed his firm conviction, that he should not recover; but those around him, who had seen him rally on former occasions, and felt that all the warmth and energy of his earlier years remained unbroken, were unwilling to admit his apprehensions, and flattered themselves that they arose only from the depressing effects of the malady under which he laboured.
Three days previous to his death, Lady Brenton was reading to him the fifty-ninth chapter of Isaiah, and it drew from him some strong and striking declarations of his own state. He dwelt in confession on his own unworthiness, but added the expression of his firm confidence and lively hope in the merits of his Redeemer. He said that he felt that he had nothing to plead, nothing to bring forward in his own behalf. Free undeserved grace was his only hope; to that he looked, and it was on that he rested; but it was in the full assurance of faith that he did so.
This was his last conversation. From that time he dozed almost incessantly, and seemed unwilling to be disturbed to take the prescribed medicine. But as soon as he perceived that the refusal distressed Lady Brenton, who was his constant attendant, he immediately made the required effort, and expressed his regret at having given her pain. On the evening of Saturday, April 2nd, his sister, Mrs. John Brenton, found him sufficiently awake to converse for a few minutes, when he inquired in his usual affectionate manner after all the members of the family. He then seemed pleased to find that she and Lady Brenton were conversing together in his room, and expressed the delight he felt at seeing those he loved around him.
He passed a restless night, but the medical report in the morning was rather favourable; indeed it was so favourable, that every member of the family except Lady Brenton, went to church both morning and afternoon. Lady Brenton however during her solitary watching, felt an undescribable alarm, for which she could not account, except from the constant stupor of her husband. Uneasy without being able to explain the cause of her uneasiness, she longed for the hour when his medical attendants would again visit him. Providentially they were with her when the crisis came, and they were standing with her by the bed side when a sudden spasm came on, and in a moment all was over, and the vital spark had fled.
The narrative of a man’s life is his character. It is not the Editor’s wish to add to this memoir of Sir Jahleel Brenton any laboured or detailed description of its subject, for he feels, that if his readers have not learnt to appreciate the man by his behaviour under the various trials which have been included in the narrative, it is hardly to be hoped that they should be taught it by any other mode of representation. Had space permitted, or had it been felt proper to draw more largely from his correspondence, something no doubt might have been added to the effect produced by the story. Sir Jahleel left behind him many papers on moral and religious topics, which do equal credit to his head and heart, and which are interesting evidences of the depth and seriousness of his feelings. No one however who has perused the preceding pages can doubt of the reality or the soundness of his religious principles, and it is unnecessary to multiply evidence of a fact, which all are agreed in believing. Some regret is experienced in withholding the letters written to his family, and the journals kept for their information during his tours on the continent; for in addition to the picture which they give of kind affectionate feelings, and playful kindness, they exhibit much descriptive talent. But the sacredness of private communications should never be violated without a cause; and it can hardly be necessary to add a line to the numberless instances of affection and regard which abound throughout the narrative, in order to strengthen the impression as to the character of Sir Jahleel in these respects.